


Oh, the Places You'll Go!

by lyvanna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Kid Fic, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:02:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyvanna/pseuds/lyvanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek comes home to Stiles reading to their daughter. It gives him feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, the Places You'll Go!

Derek was home late. He dropped his briefcase on the floor right by the door in the way that he knew Stiles hated (because Stiles was the only one who'd trip over it every time - “Not all of us have super reflexes y'know Derek”) and wrenched at his tie. It snapped and came away in his hands. Well, great. He folded up the material and put it in his pocket, making a mental note to dispose of it without Stiles seeing. It was the sort of thing he'd never live down if his husband found out - “So you seriously do just disrobe like The Hulk then?”

He toed off his shoes and trudged wearily up the stairs. He was half-way across the landing when he noticed the soft light creeping through a crack in Daisy's door. He heard quiet, murmured voices inside. 

“I'm fairy certain that's the end of the story,” Stiles yawned.

“No it's not,”

Daisy sounded wide-awake. Derek peered through the crack in the door and saw them curled up together on the bean-bag chair that was usually just used by the children as a soft landing after launching themselves off things. Stiles was curled up around their daughter, her head tucked under his chin, and a book in his hands. Daisy studied the open book seriously, little fingers tracing the the outline of one of the drawings. 

“Where did we get to then Princess?” Stiles asked, lifting his head and rubbing his eyes with his free hand. 

“Pants!” Daisy shouted then giggled. 

“Of course,” Stiles straightened the book up and blinked at the page for a minute before continuing, “...or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants, or a wig with curls or another chance. Everyone is just waiting,” and here Stiles took a deep breath before turning the page, Daisy already sitting straight up and to attention at her favourite bit, “No, that's not for you!” they shouted in unison. Daisy laughed her little 'tee hee' laugh that never failed to melt Derek's heart and swayed around dramatically in Stiles' arms. 

“Hey, sit still or I'll drop you,” Stiles said, tightening his grip and pressing a light kiss to the curls on the top of her head when she stopped moving, “Are you ready for bed yet?”

“No,” Daisy giggled. She might have at least tried to sound sad about it, or defiant, but she knew she could still wrap her fathers around her little finger when she wanted to, so all she sounded like was smugly amused. Stiles started reading again and Derek leant up against the frame of the door, feeling a calm wash over him, Stiles' soft voice drawing out all the stress he'd been feeling. It had started that morning when his car had broken down (maybe it was time to get a mom-mobile like Stiles kept insisting) on the way to work, then some deliveries hadn't arrived, a client had left and he'd found his receptionist cowering in the men's room with red eyes and a problem he didn't want to talk about. He wasn't sure when his life had become so normal but he was pretty sure it wasn't a good sign when you were looking back nostalgically at were-lizards and Alpha packs. 

Not that everything was bad. The two people in that room now arguing about how a 'boom band' sounds were the bright light of happiness hooked beneath his ribcage that kept him going, kept him anchored. And that was what had really annoyed him today - that he hadn't been able to get back early enough to enjoy some time with them. Driving home in an unfamiliar car that smelt of other people he'd convinced himself that even the slightest bit of time with them would be enough. And as the minutes had ticked by he'd negotiated himself down to simply peeking in through Daisy's door then slipping into bed beside Stiles and breathing in his scent as he slept. Trying to convince himself that just that would be enough. Agonisingly tiny things that he sometimes still had to convince himself he had waiting for him. 

“Oh the places you'll go!” continued Stiles, having had enough of his stomach being used as a 'boom band', “There is fun to be done!” 

Derek wasn't really sure why Daisy liked this book, it had always seemed a little frightening to him. Some of the pictures loomed ominously and most of the words must have gone over her head. But she demanded it at least once a day and one of them, usually Stiles, would comply – proud glint in his eye that his daughter still chose books over the vast array of electronic gifts that the pack had bought her. Not that Derek didn't like to read to her as well. Sunday seemed to have become their particular time when Daisy would usually wake him with a wet kiss to the face (more often than not his eye) before dropping a book on him and snuggling down in bed to listen to him read. “She watches your face more than she looks at the books you know,” Stiles had pointed out once with a fond smile. He didn't do voices as well as Stiles, didn't bring the story alive enough for her to get lost in it, he was sure that was why, but as long as she still wanted him to do something for her he'd do it. 

He watched Stiles cuddle Daisy closer as he got to the parts about being 'all alone'. His heart gave a twinge, “There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won't want to go on, but on you will go!” Stiles always emphasised that last bit and then they were back to listing which was always Daisy's favourite, especially when they got to 'Hakken-Krak's howl' as she knew it was then time for her to try out her own. 

The first time Derek had heard her howling at the book he'd dropped the shovel he'd been using in the garden and torn through the house in search of her, heart pounding. When she'd seen him, red-eyed and trembling, the smile had died on her face and she'd frozen still, not frightened exactly but alert – eyes watching him curiously. “It's ok,” Stiles had insisted from his spot on the floor, “We were just reading a book,” 

They'd laughed about it later but the panic that Derek had felt when he'd heard that howl had never quiet left him. It was almost as bad as the fear he'd felt when he first held her in his arms and knew that she was his to take care of. That she needed him completely. And that he already loved her so much without even knowing her. He had barely gotten used to the idea of Stiles loving and needing him and they'd been together for seven years. 

The real problem he had with this book was that it made him melancholy. He wanted to say that it was because he was thinking about Daisy growing up and leaving home some day. But it was more selfish than that, more self-centred. It was a book that talked about all the wonders she had yet to experience in life. But he had once had dreams like that too. A thousand possibilities for his future burned out, smoke damaged or just thrown away. The book reminded him of all the paths he'd never take – of the dreams his teenage self had had. A lot of them had been stupid dreams of course, he doubted he'd ever have become a rock star or a doctor (though Stiles had gotten him that set of scrubs that he'd bribed Melissa for and that were still cause of much amusement in the Stilinski-McCall household on family gatherings) or a star basketball player. But it would have been nice to have discovered that differently. 

He drew away from the doorway, still listening to Stiles read the story but only just making out a few of the words now. 

He was terrified of Daisy having those regrets as well. He could stand his own now, had had a lot of practice and time, but she was so hopeful and bright and joyous. He hated the idea of life ruining her. Disappointing her. She needed to have everything. 

He didn't notice the sudden silence until the door was opening in front of him and Stiles was stepping out. He gave Derek a tired, wry smile and pulled the door to behind him. “Hey”, he said, not waiting for a response before sliding his arms around Derek and burying his face in his chest, “It's late,” he mumbled. 

“It is,” Derek agreed, wrapping his arms around Stiles and taking on the comforting weight of his body, “You made the mistake of letting her get out of bed,” 

“It just sort-of...happened, she's crafty,” 

Derek hummed sceptically. Stiles was rubbing his tired eyes against Derek's clavicle in a way he found spectacularly distracting. 

“Work sucks,”

Derek hummed again, this time in agreement. Stiles usually wavered between loving his job and hating it, the past couple of weeks it had been the latter. 

“I missed you,” 

“Missed you too,” Derek lowered his head to bury his nose in Stiles' hair and take a few steadying breaths in. His life wasn't bad. The outside world sometimes made him forget that but here, in this moment, he knew he had happiness. A kind of happiness that lived with the constant fear of it being taken away but not something he'd ever give up for that. 

“Maybe you can get her to sleep,” 

“If I go in there you might as well start setting the table for pancakes because she will not go to sleep until I've made smiley faces,”

“Oh the irony,” Stiles leant back and grinned a him, “Maybe I just feel like pancakes,” 

“For you, anything,”

Stiles frowned, “You're no fun to tease when you're in this mood,” and he decided instead to press his lips against Derek's, starting soft but becoming more urgent, dragging Derek's lower lip between his own and sucking for a moment before letting go. Stiles breathed for a second before finishing his thought, “Too sincere,” 

“Love you too,” Derek punctuated the kiss with a peck to Stiles' lips before straightening up, “So what is it, sleep or pancakes?”

“I knew one day my life would come down to this decision.” 

Derek rolled his eyes and untangled himself from Stiles' arms, “I'll start making the batter,” 

Stiles grinned, “I have the perfect husband,” 

“We are terrible parents,”

“Perfect parents,” Stiles insisted, “Parents of Legend. Anyway tomorrow is Saturday,” 

“Don't try to justify pancakes at 11:30pm,”

“You're right no justification needed, get on your way!” 

Derek blinked at him.

“It's... from the book,” Stiles added weakly.

“Oh, I know,” 

“Daddy?” a small voice said from behind the door before little fingers slipped between the open crack and pulled it wide unsteadily, “Daddy!”

Derek stooped to gather up the excited bundle of limbs that came rocketing towards him, “Hey little one,” Daisy wrapped her arms around his neck in a vice-like grip and started showering his face with kisses. Stiles watched them, 

“I think I just got pancake batter duty,” 

Derek grinned at him, shifting his grip on Daisy, “Perfect husband,” 

Stiles waved a dismissive hand as he passed him on the landing, “I know,”

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't done so yet, please remember to vote in [The Backlot's Slash Madness](http://www.thebacklot.com/ultimate-slash-madness-championship-round/08/2013/%22) poll, Sterek are in the final.


End file.
